The Prince's Bride

by Victoria Alexander

  She’d been remarkably uncomplaining on their grueling journey. She hadn’t been overly distraught at finding herself in his bed this morning. Indeed she’d been extremely clever and quite witty. And her kindness to his uncle indicated a generous nature. None of which meshed with the shallow, spoiled picture he’d had of her.

  Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps fate had led him to the one woman he could well spend the rest of his days with.

  “Now.” Jocelyn’s curious tone, pulled him from his reverie. “Tell me about his days as a spy.”

  Although at this particular moment he would have gladly traded curious for mercenary.

  “I don’t think—” Rand started.

  Nigel cut in. “Nonsense, my boy. There should be no secrets between a man and his wife. I may not have known the state of matrimony firsthand but I know that much. Secrets will destroy a marriage faster than even infidelity.” He paused and a shadow passed through his eyes, as if he reflected on something in his own past. His own secrets. Nigel’s eyes cleared and he directed his words to Jocelyn. “About this spying business.”

  She leaned forward eagerly. “Yes?”

  Rand held his breath.

  Nigel shook his head. “I’m sorry to say, child, I don’t know anything about that. Don’t know for sure if it ain’t nothing more than gossip.”

  Rand started at the old man’s blatant lie. Lord Worthington might have become something of a recluse but he’d always had friends in high places. Rand knew full well his uncle had maintained his contacts in London and through them had kept a close eye on his nephew’s activities during the war.

  “Oh well.” Jocelyn settled back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “It scarcely matters, I suppose. I was simply”—she tossed Rand a teasing smile—“curious.”

  “Let the past stay in the past, I say.” Nigel smacked the table with the palm of his hand and nodded sharply. “It’s over and done with. It doesn’t do anyone any good to look back. With the exception of myself, of course.

  “And now.” Nigel grabbed his cane and got to his feet. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “My uncle is writing his memoirs,” Rand said.

  Nigel wagged his brows at his nephew. “Plenty of long legs in there.” He chuckled. “I miss ‘em, I can tell you that. Knew lots of long legs in my day.”

  Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “It does sound ... interesting.”

  Rand grinned. “I for one cannot wait to read it.”

  “Not until I’m dead, my boy. Or maybe tomorrow. Haven’t decided yet. Stop in the library later and see how it’s going.” Nigel turned his attention to Jocelyn. “Good to have a pair of long legs in the castle again. Puts life back in the place.”

  “Do you need help, Uncle?” Rand rose to his feet.

  “Not from you.” Nigel waved at a maid positioned by the door. “Rose will help me.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t have many pleasures these days and leaning on a sweet young thing to help me get around is the best I can do.” He glanced at the approaching plump, middle-aged woman. “Course she ain’t sweet or young but my eyes ain’t what they used to be either.” Once again he chortled with laughter and Rand joined him.

  Rose rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, stepped to the older man’s side, and wrapped her arm around his waist. Nigel leaned on his cane and draped his free arm over the woman’s shoulder. His gaze met Rand’s and he winked.

  “Come along now, my lord,” Rose said and led him toward the door. “And I’ll have none of your tricks today.”

  “Tricks? Don’t know what you mean, girl.”

  The couple stepped through the stone archway, their voices drifting after them.

  “They’ll be none of that poking me with your cane.”

  “It’s not my cane.” Nigel’s cackling laughter echoed behind him.

  Rand met Jocelyn’s startled gaze and they burst into laughter.

  “He’s really quite ... um ...” She grinned up at him. “Outspoken?”

  “At the very least.” Rand shook his head and sat back down at the table. “I think he likes you. Very much.”

  “All of me or just my legs?”

  “All of you, especially since he has not seen your legs.”

  “You said they were extraordinary.”

  “They are.” He paused. As, I suspect, are you. “I hope he didn’t embarrass you.”

  “Not at all.” She leaned forward, rested her elbow on the table, and propped her chin in her hand. “Did he embarrass you?”

  “No.” He smiled. “Not overly, that is.”

  “He’s rather wise, isn’t he?”

  “Well, he’s in his seventies,” Rand said thoughtfully. “He’s seen quite a bit and no doubt learned quite a lot.”

  She grinned. “About women.”

  “Among other things.”

  She absently traced the design on the tablecloth with her forefinger. “I liked what he said about leaving the past in the past.”

  “So did I.” He studied her for a moment. “You were really very kind to him.”

  She looked up at him. “You sound surprised.”

  “It’s just that he’s an old man and he can be rather dotty at times—”

  “I didn’t find him dotty at all. I thought his mind was quite sharp.”

  “I only mean he says things he probably shouldn’t and—”

  “He says exactly what he thinks. I rather admire that.” Her words were measured. “Obviously that’s one area in which you do not take after your uncle.”

  “I beg your pardon.” He stared at her indignantly. “I say precisely what I think.”

  “Do you really?” She got to her feet.

  “Of course I do.” He rose at once. “Don’t be absurd.”

  “Add it to my list of failings.” Her eyes narrowed and his stomach churned. He had obviously done something to anger her but for the life of him he had no idea what it was.

  “You’re surprised I was kind to your uncle because I have nothing to gain from it. Because I am too shallow to enjoy the company of a charming old man without some kind of compensation.”

  “No, that’s not what I thought at all.” Of course, there had been a moment when perhaps ...

  She must have read the thought on his face. Her eyes flashed. “I have a splitting headache, my lord, and I am retiring to my rooms. Alone.”

  “Our rooms,” he said without thinking.

  “Our rooms.” She fairly spat the words at him. “However, I should be most grateful if you would absent yourself from our rooms for the remainder of the day. I realize that request is selfish on my part but I’m afraid I am too spoiled to care.” She turned on her heel and started toward the door.

  Rand wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened but he knew it wasn’t what he’d intended. Hadn’t he tried to compliment her? “Jocelyn, wait, I didn’t mean ... My uncle is quite taken with you.”

  She halted and her shoulders heaved with an irritated sigh. “He’s quite delightful and I like him very much.”

  “He thinks I made an excellent choice.”

  “And what do you think?” She whirled to face him. “Do you think you made an excellent choice?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Possibly?”

  He winced. He’d never been stupid enough to actually tell a woman what he really thought before. Why on earth did he choose now to reform? It was her accusation about not saying what he thought that no doubt did it. He held up his hands helplessly. “Probably. I meant probably.”

  “What you meant is that in spite of how nicely we’ve been getting along or how hard I’ve been trying or the fact that you scarcely know me at all—in spite of well, everything you’re still convinced I’m shallow, spoiled, selfish, and stupid.”

  “I never actually said stupid.” And wasn’t that a point in his favor?

  “It was implied,” she snapped.

  Apparently not.

  “In the interest of saying what we think”—
Jocelyn crossed her arms over her chest—“I don’t believe Lord Worthington is quite as wise as I had originally thought.”

  “Why not?” he asked cautiously, knowing he would not like the answer.

  “Because his assessment of you is unrealistic. He sees what he wants to see. He’s convinced I’ve married a prince. Obviously he’s never met a real prince.” Her gaze traveled over him with disdain. “Since, in reality, what I wed was a toad. Good day, my lord.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

  “A toad?” he called indignantly. “I am hardly a toad.”

  He stared after her. He’d never lived with a woman before, and apparently there were things he was going to have to learn about the temperamental creatures. Like when to say what he really thought and when to keep his mouth shut.

  Her charges weren’t at all fair. He did realize he’d been wrong about her. Pity he hadn’t managed to convey that. Well, he had the rest of their lives to straighten everything out between them. And he’d start today.

  She was rather magnificent when she was angry. Like a golden avenging angel. All that passionate fury wrapped in a delectable package. How magnificent would she be when her passion was directed in a much more enjoyable manner?

  He smiled slowly. He’d always rather relished making up with women. Usually it required the presentation of a little bauble, much champagne, and a sincere apology. Making up with Jocelyn might be more of a challenge. She was his wife, after all, and that no doubt changed a woman’s perception of what was forgivable and what wasn’t.

  Still, he’d faced far greater challenges in his life.

  He ignored the voice in the back of his head that pointed out this wasn’t merely a challenge.

  This was his wife.

  Chapter 7

  “Now then, my boy.” Nigel sat behind his desk and studied his nephew over the rim of the spectacles he used for reading. “Don’t you think it’s time you told me everything?”

  “I thought you wanted to discuss your memoirs?” Rand resisted the urge to squirm as he had as a boy when confronted by that same look in his uncle’s eye and that same tone in his voice.

  “I know all about my life. I want to know about yours.”

  “There really isn’t anything to tell,” Rand said cautiously.

  Nigel snorted. “Don’t bam me, boy. It’s been less than a fortnight since you were last here and there was no talk of a wife when you left.”

  “Admittedly, the wedding was rather sudden.”

  Nigel narrowed his eyes. “Is she increasing?”

  “No,” Rand said quickly. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. You can’t blame me for asking. It’s the usual reason for a hasty wedding.”

  “Well, it’s not the reason for this one.”

  “Then what is?”

  “There’s nothing out of the ordinary here, Uncle.”

  “No?” Nigel raised a white brow. “You arrive here in the middle of the night, on horseback, with a bride in tow. I’d scarcely call that ordinary.”

  “I couldn’t wait for you to meet her,” Rand said staunchly.

  “You can do better than that.” Nigel scoffed. “Few women of quality I know would agree to travel all the way from London on horseback.”

  “Jocelyn is an accomplished rider.” The lie rolled smoothly off Rand’s tongue. Jocelyn sat a horse with all the confidence of a mouse clinging to the back of a tiger.

  “Hah. She’s not the type.” Nigel shook his head. “The best horsewomen I’ve known tend to look a bit like their steeds. Your lady doesn’t bear even a faint resemblance to a horse. And in that, my boy”—Nigel grinned—“I congratulate you.”

  “Thank you.” Rand grinned back. “I must admit she is indeed—”

  “Why’d you bring her here?” Nigel’s eyes were as sharp as his voice. “Why didn’t you bring her to the Abbey?”

  “I told you I wanted you to meet her.”

  “I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long, Rand. I do hope you lie better to other people than you do to me.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Stuff and nonsense, my boy. I’ve known when you were lying since you were old enough to get into mischief. And I suspect mischief is exactly what you’re into now.” Nigel leaned back and studied him. “No one in their right mind would bypass the Abbey with its excellent staff and comfortable surroundings for a crumbling castle with a bare minimum number of servants.”

  “It doesn’t have to be quite as crumbling, you know,” Rand said pointedly and not for the first time.

  “When it’s yours, you can bring it back up to snuff. I see no reason to waste the funds necessary to do so now. I like it this way. It suits me.” Nigel narrowed his eyes. “But you’ve changed the subject. Why did you marry this girl? Why the haste? And why are you here?”

  His uncle was right. Rand never could lie to him. At least not well. Rand considered the questions for a long, silent moment. This was Nigel’s home, and simply by bringing Jocelyn here he had more or less involved his uncle in the situation. Besides, he could trust Nigel with his life. Or Jocelyn’s.

  “Very well, Uncle.” Rand drew a deep breath and quickly outlined the story.

  “Better than I thought.” Nigel chuckled then sobered. “I gather you don’t believe she’s in any real danger here?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not, but”—Rand shook his head—“I have men stationed on the property as a precaution. I suspect those involved in this conspiracy have better things to do than chase Jocelyn across the country. I doubt they’ll take the time or make the effort to find her. However, as I cannot be sure of that, I refuse to take any chances.”

  “I can see why my talk of princes annoyed you, eh? Didn’t want her dwelling on thoughts of what she lost? Or considering what she might have gained?”

  “Something like that,” Rand murmured.

  “Who knows you’re here?”

  “The man I was working for, of course, and Thomas. We both thought it best if we kept it from Jocelyn’s sisters. The fewer who know the better.

  “With luck, I’m out of it now. Unless, of course, Jocelyn is able at some point to give us a description. She says she didn’t see the men involved but I suspect she’s simply put it out of her mind. Fear and all that. Not that I blame her. But for the moment, I’ve nothing further to do with it all. Jocelyn is my only responsibility.”

  Nigel studied him silently, and once more Rand felt as if he were a child again. “So what are you going to do about her?”

  “I’m not going to do anything about her.” In truth, Rand had very specific ideas about what he hoped to do about Jocelyn, beginning with an apology that was totally out of proportion to his crime but an excellent idea nonetheless.

  “Come now, she’s a beautiful woman. And your wife. More than likely for the rest of your life.”

  “I did think I would try to get to know her better.”

  “Get to know her better.” Nigel chuckled. “Never heard it put quite that way before.”

  “Thomas suggested I seduce her.” Rand grinned. “It seemed like a good idea.”

  “Damned if I don’t agree with him. Smart man. I know his grandmother. Fine-looking woman in her day ...” Nigel’s face took on a familiar far-off expression. For the moment, his uncle was looking at sights and memories only he could see. Nigel’s memoirs would be fascinating reading and more than likely quite scandalous.

  “Uncle?” Rand prompted.

  “Quite a beauty if I recall.” Nigel sighed. “Now then, where was I?”

  “Seduction?”

  “Ah yes. Excellent idea but, in this case, seduction alone is not enough.”

  Rand snorted in disbelief.

  “Think what you want, but I know what I’m talking about.” Nigel tapped his pen thoughtfully on the desk. “Seduction is all well and good but it’s, at best, an intermediate step. Sharing your bed is one thing, sharing your life is entire
ly different.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rand said slowly.

  “Sometimes you’re thicker than a newel post. Pay attention, boy.” Nigel leaned forward. “You’re, no doubt, in this arrangement for as long as you live. But passion alone doesn’t last. By itself, it’s not enough.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Nigel blew a frustrated breath. “I’m saying you can’t merely seduce her; you have to court her with an eye toward more than her bed.” Nigel aimed an accusing finger at him. “Blast it, Rand, you have to make her love you.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.” Rand shook his head.

  “Of course you can. Unless ... she isn’t in love with that prince, is she?”

  “I don’t think so.” No, he was fairly certain, if love was involved between Jocelyn and Alexei it was her love of his title and his wealth and his love of her beauty.

  “Good.” Nigel nodded with satisfaction. “She does already like you, you know. I can see it in her eyes.”

  “Then you see more than I do.”

  “I see that you like her as well. It’s a damned good start. Some couples don’t have that. Have you kissed her yet?”

  “Yes.” Rand drew the word out slowly.

  The old man’s eyes twinkled. “And did she kiss you back?”

  “Yes.” Rand grinned. “And with a fair amount of enthusiasm as well.”

  “Then you’re halfway there.” Nigel settled back in his chair. “Women are odd creatures, Rand. For them, desire more often than not goes hand in hand with love. That’s where they differ from us. Win her heart first, Rand. And be patient. It will be worth the wait. There’s nothing more loyal, more delightful, and more passionate than a woman in love. And nothing better for a woman than the love of a good man.” He considered his nephew for a moment. “How do you feel about her? Deep down. In your gut. Where it counts.”

  “I don’t know,” Rand said simply. “At first I thought she was no different from many other young women I see during the season. Not a thought in her head beyond snaring the most eligible husband available. I thought she was self-centered and spoiled and stubborn.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I know she’s stubborn.” Rand grinned, then sobered. “Marrying me meant her life would not turn out as she’d planned. And she did it more to keep her sisters safe than out of any concern for her own life. That was scarcely the act of a spoiled nature. In that I was wrong.